


The Howl of the North Wind

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: McHanzo [30]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Demons, Disfigurement, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Loss, Love/Hate, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Permanent Injury, Serious Injuries, Torture, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: There was a legend in the Shimada clan, the tale of a crimson dragon that would rise from the ashes of their bloodline. A beast that would bring the Shimadas, and their world to its knees...Genji was the youngest son. A weapon. A tool. To be used as and when the clan wanted, and to live in Hanzo's shadow as his brother lived the life he wanted. But he was also a Dragon, and he wanted more.Too much more.





	The Howl of the North Wind

**Author's Note:**

> “Because brothers don’t let each other wander in the dark alone.” – Jolene Perry

    Genji was as silent as a ghost as he slipped into the meeting room, although he knew that he could have made all the noise in the world as he took his spot at the back of the room and they still wouldn’t have acknowledged his presence. The only difference was that he would have had to endure another lecture later, and he couldn’t bear to hear the same words yet again, and so he was quiet as he settled onto the ground, refusing to count the way that Hanzo’s gaze flickered to him before skittering away as an acknowledgement. It didn’t stop him from glancing at his brother, feeling a by now familiar spark of resentment at seeing Hanzo knelt at their father’s side, an honoured position, where all eyes in the room would be fixed on him.

The place that Genji longed for.

     Hanzo looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one leg to another and carefully avoiding meeting the many eyes that were on him. He had always preferred to work in the background, and when they had been younger, he had actively encouraged Genji to take centre stage, using his younger brother as a shield. Back then Genji had been happy to oblige, it gave him a chance to show off, to earn a few words of praise here and there from their father and show off his skills. And it had all been for nothing… all that time spent pushing himself, ignoring the things he would be rather doing in the hopes of proving himself useful to the clan and hoping, that maybe, the Elders would see that he was better suited to take over the family than Hanzo. It had been a fool’s hope. They hadn’t even glanced at him before naming Hanzo as the heir, and pushing Genji into the background, not even willing to use the skills they had once praised him for.

     He scowled but didn’t speak, as the conversation around him. He feigned disinterest, but he absorbed every word, just as he always had when it came to the family business. It was a merger, he realised after a couple of minutes. Or rather a takeover, because the Shimada clan would never lower itself to working with someone, although they would disguise it as such until it was time to go in for the kill. Genji had been on more than one mission that had followed that pattern, his blade stained with the blood of men and women who had thought that they would be working with him, and he found himself leaning forward, no longer able to pretend he wasn’t listening. He liked the thrill of the hunt, and apart from those first few missions he had never hesitated, as ruthless as any Elder when facing down their enemies. However, it didn’t take him long to realise that he wasn’t included in this plan, that his skill, his blade, wasn’t required or wanted.

“Father,” Hanzo interrupted softly, speaking up for the first time since Genji had entered. And probably for the first time this meeting, as he always tried to stay out of the planning, as though that could ever distance him from what was happening. Genji tensed, already having an idea what his brother was going to do, a suspicion that was confirmed when Hanzo glanced towards him, and he shook his head fiercely. As much as he wanted to be of use, to make the clan…and their father…see him as more than just the youngest child, he wanted it to because of his own actions, not because his brother had chosen to take pity of him.  “Genji is better suited to this task than I am, and…”

“Enough.” Genji’s hands had already curled into fists against his knees when Hanzo had ignored him and still spoken out, and now his knuckles paled as their father’s voice cracked out like a whip. There had been a time when Genji had feared that tone, seeing just how far the clan would go to obey it, and later he had respected it. It had been the voice of a leader. The voice that he wanted to be able to wield one day. Now, he hated it, and he lifted his head, not caring if the clan witnessed his defiance anymore as he met their father’s gaze. There was none of the rare warmth that Genji remembered from his childhood and not even a spark of recognition. It was the gaze of a stranger. A gaze that found him wanting and his lips drew back in a snarl as he found himself fighting not to look away.  “I am aware of your brother’s skills, and they are not required for this task.” _He is not required,_ Genji heard the unspoken words and he knew that Hanzo had too, because his expression had tightened, although it wasn’t enough to stop him from trying again even when Genji glowered at him.

“But, father…”

“Enough.” Genji had a moment of vicious satisfaction as Hanzo recoiled at the sharp tone, but it was short-lived as their father turned to look at him once more. “This is a task for the heir. Your brother has no part in that, and you would do well to remember that.” He wasn’t sure which of them he was talking to, but hearing the words, the reminder that he wasn’t the heir. That compared to Hanzo, he was little more than a tool to be used when the occasion arose, was too much to bear at the moment, and not caring that he would pay for it later he rose to his feet with an audible snarl. He ignored his father, although he didn’t miss the fury banking in the dark eyes, instead staring at his brother for a moment before turning and walking out of the room without a word.

**

     Genji had barely made it to the end of the corridor when the door flew open again, and he snarled, coming to a halt, already knowing who was coming after him. However, he refused to make it any easier for his brother, resolutely keeping his back to Hanzo as he heard him approaching, hands curling at his sides as his resentment and earlier anger began to bubble over into rage

“Genji, wait…”

“I didn’t ask you to interfere,” Genji ground out, hating the hesitation in his brother’s voice. _You’re supposed to be the proud Shimada heir,_ he sneered in the privacy of his thoughts, not turning to face his brother because right now he didn’t trust his face not to betray him. Although maybe it would be worth it just to see Hanzo’s expression, to see if his brother would finally abandon the act of caring and become like the rest of the clan. “I didn’t want your little show of pity. What were you hoping? That I would fall at your feet in gratitude? That I would become another lackey to the ‘heir’?”

“I- I wasn’t trying to do anything like that.” Hanzo murmured, voice growing stronger and Genji tensed as he heard him moving forward, closing the distance between them. Reaching out…he was always reaching out, even though they both knew it wasn’t going to do either of them any good. Even though there was nothing left for him to reach for.  “Genji…” It was a plea and apology all wrapped into one, a lie wrapped in pretty words and Genji went rigid as fingers brushed his shoulder, before gently trying to tug him around and for half a second, a strange pang of longing made him lean into the touch, to let his brother begin to move him. “You’re my brother, I want you…” _By my side,_ Genji heard the unspoken words before they could be spoken, and his lips twisted up into a snarl, and then he was moving, yanking away from Hanzo’s touch and whirling around to face him.

“Don’t lie to me.”   

“Genji!” The hurt on his brother’s face wasn’t quite as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be, and his lip curled. “Please, stop this.” Hanzo was pleading now, looking like the brother who had tried to hide behind him when they were younger, rather than the man who now sat in the one place that Genji dreamed of. “I miss how we used to be.”

“Then you should have thought about that before stealing my dream.” The words were out before he could stop them, but he couldn’t bring himself to take them back. No, he didn’t want to. It was probably the first time he had said them aloud, and the first time he had allowed himself to say how he really felt in a long time. Hanzo had recoiled at his words, but now he rallied, still trying to reach out to him, although there was an edge to his voice now.

“You’re not the only one who has lost out because of this.”

“Really?” Genji snarled, all thoughts of restraint gone as he stepped forward, trembling with a rage that he had never felt before. “And what have you lost, o noble heir?” Hanzo was frozen in place, eyes wide as Genji closed the distance between them, sarcasm dripping off his words. Reaching his brother, he forced himself into Hanzo’s space, leaning up to ask softly.  “You have everything, and you’re really going to stand there and tell me it’s not enough?” He heard Hanzo swallow softly, but his brother didn’t answer, and after a moment passed, he pulled back with a disgusted noise. “I thought not. Stay the hell away from me…brother.” He spun on his heel and fled before he could give in to the temptation to do something he might not regret later, refusing to turn around as he heard Hanzo shaking off his shock and calling his name.

****

    Hanzo took a deep breath and then another, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts that swirling around and the echo of Genji’s angry words, flinching as they replayed yet again despite his best efforts to block them out. Part of him was tempted to just start firing at the target and work out his emotions that way, however, his teachers over the years had drilled it into him that you needed to have a clear mind when fighting, even if you were only practising. A clouded mind was considered a weakness, not only for yourself, but for those you were fighting for, and as the heir, more than anyone, he could not allow that to happen.

    However, it had been easier to clear his mind back then, back when his biggest concern had been how he was going to complete all his studies and revise for the next test that would be thrown at him, whilst stealing moments for fun, sneaking out into Hanamura with his brother and playing on the walls and roof. Those activities were a thing of the past, something he missed with a sharp, almost physical ache, and his thoughts were a tangled web on a good day, but today… today they were a storm, regret and anger, whirling beneath them as he remembered how desperate his brother had sounded, how angry and hurt.

How much it had sounded like he hated Hanzo…

   There had been a time when Hanzo would have steadfastly said that was impossible. As children, they had been virtually inseparable, partly due to who they were and the fact that they weren’t allowed to run wild with the other children they would occasionally watch from the windows. However, their shared training and the expectations placed on them as sons of the Shimada clan had brought them closer together, and they had become brothers in arms, as well as brothers in blood. His mother had pleaded with them once to cherish that closeness and protect it, warning them that it would become their strongest weapon and yet at some point, it had slipped between their fingers. Replaced by distance, and angry words and Hanzo closed his eyes, trying not to imagine what she would say if she were here to see what had become of the bond she had loved so much.

_Breathe._

     The air out here was clear at least, crisp and sharp after the early snowfall that had christened the ground overnight and he took another deep breath, finally feeling some of the tension beginning to ease. There was nothing out here to remind him of that cramped room, or of the incense that had burned in her room the night she had died, or of the smoke and copper of blood that would no doubt fill his nose after tonight.

_Focus._

    No, he didn’t want to think about that now. It was the whole reason he had excused himself from the others as soon as it was polite, ignoring the disapproving expression on his father’s face, knowing that Sojiro had expected him to spend time with the men that would be working with him that night. Instead, he had fled. Something he was confident that he would hear about later, especially after he had already interrupted the meeting to take off after his brother. _And for what…?_

   No, he wasn’t to think about that now. It was the whole reason he had excused himself from the morning meeting, ignoring the disapproving expression on his father’s face as he had practically fled the room. He would hear about it later he was sure, another lecture about his position and the responsibilities that came with it, a burden he had never asked for and one that he would gladly pass to someone else in a heartbeat. That wasn’t a choice though, as he had been informed countless times when he had tried to raise the issue, and so he had to take what he could, even if it was snatched moments like this out in the cold, the bow creaking in his hands as he drew the string back steadily.

_Aim._

    His thoughts were settling. They weren’t banished, he couldn’t clear his mind as completely had when he was younger, but they were quieter, a barely audible whisper at the back of his mind and he felt his shoulders relaxing. The target, a simple mannequin set at a distance that few people could hit gave him something else to focus on, and he breathed deep and steady, the world narrowing down to the tip of the arrow and the target that lay beyond.

_Fire_.

     He released the arrow, watching with calm detachment as it sped towards the distant target with unerring accuracy and although it was too far for him to see clearly, he knew that he had hit dead centre. A small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Archery wasn’t considered a useful skill these days even amongst the traditionalists in their clan, the Shimadas having been caught up in the rise of technology, changing to match the world around them. However, Hanzo persevered. It might not be a tool he would use in the field, his gaze flicking briefly to the blade at his waist with more than a hint of distaste, but it was uniquely his. Something that he had managed to fight for, in a world where his every breath seemed to be dictated by his position.

     Shaking his head as though that would help him clear away the unwelcome thoughts, he reached down to pluck the next arrow from the ground at his feet, only to tense as a flash of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He lifted the arrow, setting it against the string even as he slowly straightened, bracing himself for an attack. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had encountered an assassin, although it had been a while since they had been so bold as to come into the main compound and he scowled, begrudging the interruption more than concerned by it. If he couldn’t handle one assailant by now, then he had no right to call himself a Shimada, and as he lifted his head, he already had the arrow notched and ready to fly. Only to check himself when he caught a familiar flash of green hair as the figure agilely scaled the wall and disappeared before he had even lowered his weapon.

_Genji._

    Hanzo opened his mouth, half intending to call after his brother, but he stopped before the words could leave his mouth. There was no point. He couldn’t even remember the last time that Genji had spoken to him outside of a formal situation, at least not beyond a strained word in passing or a comment that was only just the right side of biting. He didn’t know when it had changed. It had seemed to him, that it had happened overnight, but he knew that wasn’t the case, aware that he had lost himself for a while as he found himself buried beneath the expectations of the clan after he had formally been named the heir nearly eighteen months ago at the same ceremony where he had received his tattoo.

    By comparison, Genji’s own ceremony had been a minor affair, and Hanzo wasn’t sure that his father had even remembered to congratulate his youngest son, something he knew that had rankled his brother and he had spoken up about it. Only to be informed that Genji was the youngest son, he was an asset to the clan and valued as such, but that was as far as it went. He wasn’t the heir. He wasn’t the future. _But he wants to be,_ Hanzo had argued. Knowing that despite his mischievous ways, Genji had always been proud of being a Shimada and that he had dreamt of helping to lead the clan, if not leading it outright, and Hanzo… Hanzo didn’t. Oh, he was proud of his family…to an extent… his stomach churning unpleasantly as he thought back to the previous night, and the night to come, the side of his life that he wished he could forget.

This wasn’t the life he had wanted.

   He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do with his life, having never been given a chance to dream as freely as his brother, as everyone had known he was going to be the heir and educated him as such. However, he knew that he wanted more than what the Shimada Castle and Hanamura had to offer, he wanted to see the world, and not as a representative of the clan constantly seeking for new business opportunities, but as himself. As Hanzo. Not a Shimada. Other times he had entertained the thought of working in some of the more legal activities of the clan, having spent many an enjoyable afternoon helping at the kennels that his family kept on the far side of town. An activity his mother had shared with him, and encouraged before her death, now his father’s expression would always darken if Hanzo so much as mentioned the place, and the Elders had informed him that wasn’t an appropriate activity anymore and that his interest should be limited to the financial side of that business.

_Genji, Genji should have it…_

    They had both argued that before the ceremony, and Hanzo knew that even though he had sided with his brother, it didn’t change the fact that he had eventually bowed to the Clan’s demands. To his father’s expectations. Leaving Genji, an outsider in his own family. Hanzo hadn’t been blind to it, but he hadn’t known how to change it, and eventually, he had allowed himself to be caught up in learning everything he would need to lead the Clan. To making himself, the perfect heir, even though it was the furthest thing from what he wanted, and at some point, he had convinced himself that Genji’s silence on the matter meant that his brother had accepted it and that he should too. Now, with his brother’s anger and spiteful words fresh in his memory, he couldn’t help but wonder just how wrong he’d been, and what he might have thrown away by not speaking up back then.

 

 


End file.
